


All's fair in love and war

by PenguinofProse



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Trivia, Valentine's fluff, flustered bellamy, lovestruck Miller, trivia contest, well-meaning friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: Written for 100 fics for BLM. Miller gets dumped just before Valentine's Day, leaving their trivia team one short. Bellamy is less than helpful, preoccupied with pining for Clarke. Enter Monty to save the day - in more ways than one. Minty with background Bellarke.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Monty Green/Nathan Miller
Comments: 16
Kudos: 49
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	All's fair in love and war

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 100 fics for BLM. Hope you like this, prompter!
> 
> Here's a fic featuring Miller pining for Monty, Bellamy pining for Clarke, and the both of them being best friends who are exasperated with each other. Happy reading!

**Support great causes and prompt more fics at https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/**

Miller doesn’t miss Bryan. Not _really_. The relationship had run its course, he tells himself, regularly and often - approximately three times a minute, in fact. They were growing apart. And anyway, Bryan had some questionable political views and used to be an ass to go to the gym with.

Miller is better off without him.

He believes that, really he does. It just sucks to be _dumped_. It sucks to be on the receiving end of a breakup, to be left scrabbling to tell his friends it was totally mutual. And it sucks most of all to be dumped just before Valentine’s Day. What kind of person does that? Is Bryan really so self-centred that he wouldn’t buy a gift for someone just because he thought the relationship was drawing to a close?

Miller tries to brush it off. He’s trying _really damn hard_ to brush it off, in case that wasn’t clear. He’s eaten the chocolates he bought for Bryan, bought himself a new jacket, spent a few evenings rewatching his favourite movies. He’s doing everything he can to lift his mood.

But Bellamy seems set on ruining all that.

“What do you mean, Bryan won’t be at Valentine’s trivia?” Bellamy half-yells down the phone.

Miller sighs. Bellamy has been his best friend since high school. But sometimes he is incredibly dense about relationships. That’s why he’s been awkwardly pining for their mutual friend Clarke for almost all that time.

“Did you miss the part where we broke up?” He tries for dry humour, fears he only ends up sounding sad.

“No, I got that. But you didn’t say he wasn’t coming to Valentine’s trivia.” Bellamy insists, firm.

“What did you think would happen, Bellamy?” This is so ridiculous Miller is almost laughing despite himself. “It’s _Valentine’s trivia_ . On _Valentine’s Day._ It’s a couples’ event. My ex is not going to come to a trivia night double date now we’re broken up, is he?”

“It’s not a double date.” Bellamy bites out.

Another long-suffering sigh from Miller. “Bellamy, man. I love you. But it _is_ a double date. You and Clarke were the only people there last year who weren’t an actual couple.”

“But we make a well-balanced team.” Bellamy says, petulant and a little childlike. “Me, Clarke, you, Bryan. We were perfect. We _won_.” He reminds Miller, pointed.

There’s the rub. They won. A year’s free drinks - and eternal glory, of course. But Miller knows that Bellamy is mostly worried about the year’s free drinks at their favourite bar. Partly because he likes drinking for free, but largely because it has served as an excellent excuse to drink with Clarke, this last year. The four of them would hit the bar together any time they fancied it, since it was free. Bryan and Miller would make out, and Bellamy would spend the whole night staring pathetically at Clarke.

Miller happens to be pretty sure that Clarke was always staring right back, actually. But Bellamy refuses to see it.

“Miller? You still there?” Bellamy prompts, urgent.

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to do? We have to win.” He sounds rather desperate, Miller thinks.

Cue one more sigh. “I don’t know, Bellamy. I’ve got things on my mind besides your crush at the moment.”

“Yeah. Of course, sorry. Selfish of me. You’re right. I’ll just -”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Miller interrupts him, exasperated. “It’s fine. I get it. I want to help you out with Clarke. I just think - you’ve been friends for _years_. Maybe you don’t need another year of free drinks. Maybe you just need to tell her how you feel.”

There’s a heavy silence. Miller can almost hear Bellamy's jaw locking nervously.

“You think that would go OK?” Bellamy asks slowly.

“Yeah. I think it would go great. How about this - if we win again, you ask her out. That way, even if she’s not into you romantically, you still get to hang out with her as a friend for the rest of the year. You get a chance to move on from the awkwardness.”

Bellamy hums quietly. “That could work. Just one problem - we still don’t have Bryan.”

Right. Crap. Back where they started. Miller frowns, considers the options. Could he ask some single friend to just be his platonic date for the night? Could he -

“Monty.” Bellamy says simply.

Miller jumps a little, glad Bellamy cannot see that over the phone. “Monty?”

“Yeah. He’s great at all the science stuff. He’d be a perfect fourth.”

Miller nods, considering it. Monty would be a perfect teammate. He and Clarke could handle science, with Bellamy on history and literature, and Miller on sport and culture. They’d be unstoppable.

But Monty is also _cute_ . And _smart_ . And _kind_ . And _funny_ . And _single_ \- single at the same time as Miller for the first time since he came out a couple of years ago.

This could be a mistake.

“Miller?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’ll ask Monty. Sure. Definitely. Great idea.”

“You can’t just _ask_ him. He has to say yes. We have to _win_.” Bellamy insists.

“You’re that keen to tell Clarke?” Miller teases.

“Oh. Right. Umm. Maybe it doesn’t matter whether we win?”

Miller laughs. He may be feeling a little confused at the prospect of asking Monty to be his trivia friend on Valentine’s Day, but he has one solace - at least he is not feeling as confused as Bellamy sounds right now.

…….

Miller considers himself a brave guy. He’s good with zip wires, with standing in the front row when the cops come to break up a peaceful protest - that kind of thing. The flesh-and-blood kind of bravery.

But he takes the coward’s way out and asks Monty to the trivia by text. He’s feeling pretty nervous about it, actually. Getting dumped the week before Valentine’s Day will do that to a guy. 

Texting has the added bonus of being able to plan his words, too.

_Hey, Monty. Got plans for Valentine’s? We need a fourth for the trivia. If we win Bellamy will finally ask out Clarke!_

He stares at the text, dissatisfied, for a long time. It’s not funny. It’s not cute or smart. He’s not even sure it’s _kind_ \- he’s sort of leveraging his friend’s probable desire to make Clarke and Bellamy happy together.

Is he as ill-suited for Monty as he was for Bryan?

It doesn’t matter. He’s not asking Monty out. He’s asking him to hang out as friends, and maybe he’ll see if he picks up any signals while they’re there.

By which he means, he hasn’t stopped thinking about kissing Monty since Bellamy first suggested him as a teammate.

He sighs, hits send. He might as well get it over with.

He’s shocked to say the least when a reply bounces back within seconds.

_Sure! I love trivia! And I can’t wait for those two idiots to get it together!_

If Bryan used that many exclamation marks, it would have sounded like shouting, Miller thinks ruefully. And yet somehow Monty just seems to be overflowing with enthusiasm.

Smiling down at his phone, he makes a start on texting Monty the details.

…….

Miller spends ages trying to decide what to wear for Valentine’s trivia, which is stupid. He has known Monty for _years_. His old friend is no more likely to decide he’s cute if he chooses a blue beanie than if he opts for the red.

And anyway, who wears a beanie indoors? He really is being daft.

It doesn’t matter. He’s been telling himself that a lot, this week. It doesn’t matter, because he is not going out tonight to get with Monty. He is going to get Bellamy together with Clarke.

He changes his shirt one last time, then heads out the door.

…….

Bellamy is already at the bar by the time Miller arrives - or rather, he is outside, pacing nervously.

“I can’t do this. I can’t tell her. She doesn’t see me like that. We have to lose.” Bellamy babbles.

Miller grins. Only Clarke has ever had the power to get Bellamy flustered like this.

“We’re going to win.” He’s never been so determined to win a silly trivia contest in his life.

Monty and Clarke arrive soon after, putting a stop to the conversation. Monty and Clarke choose a table, while Miller and Bellamy go to get drinks.

“Your last night of free drinks.” The bartender jokes, handing them over.

“I actually need to pay for one of these. We - ah - we have a different fourth teammate.” Miller explains.

The bartender only shrugs. “On the house.” She says easily. “I never saw a thing.”

Bellamy, meanwhile, seems to have decided he _has_ seen something interesting. “ _You_ needed to pay for one of these? You were about to pay for Monty’s drink? I thought this wasn’t a date?”

“I can buy a friend a drink without wanting to get into his pants.” Miller says, carefully light.

“But you _do_ want to get into his pants.” Bellamy presses.

Miller admits defeat with a nervous laugh. “Little bit, yeah.”

“We have to lose.” Bellamy repeats, as they start walking back towards the table. “I’m telling you, we -”

He stops talking, very abruptly, as they walk within earshot of the conversation between Clarke and Monty.

“We have to win.” Clarke is telling Monty, firm. “No pressure, but we _must_ win. We’ve had a lot of fun with our free drinks this year.” She says, but Miller cannot help but notice that her eyes are very much glued to Bellamy’s lips as she speaks. She's really not convincing anyone that she’s only been here for the drinks, he decides.

“I’m not so bothered about the free drinks.” Monty offers, shrugging. “You know how I feel about my moonshine.”

“Then why are you here?” Clarke asks, blunt as ever, but tone too friendly to sound rude.

Monty appears to realise his mistake. Miller sees Bellamy’s jaw grow tight with nerves. Is Monty about to give the game away? Is he about to let slip the deal Bellamy made, and is now freaking out over?

No. He just shrugs and speaks lightly. “You know, it’s Valentine’s Day. Anything in the name of love, right?”

Miller feels his face grow hot. That’s - uh, it’s a nice sentiment, he supposes. Sweet. Encouraging.

It’s giving him a little too much hope.

  
  


Clarke nods, smirking slightly. Bellamy slides into the seat next to her, pushes a drink towards her. She takes it, sidles a little closer to him with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Miller turns to Monty, and they share a raised-brow grin of exasperation at the antics of their friends. Miller takes his seat, hands Monty his drink. This isn’t a double date, of course, but obviously Bellamy was carrying a drink for Clarke so Miller had to carry Monty’s. That’s just how this set-up works.

It doesn’t matter. Isn’t that what he’s been telling himself all week? It’s fine. It’s chill. Monty likes trivia, and they’re really just here to help out their more emotionally constipated friends.

The questions start rolling, and immediately Miller feels a lot better. They’ve got this. Just a bunch of friends, some of whom want to get into each other’s pants, hanging out recalling useless facts. The first round is about sports, and he’s in his element. He knows what the richest sports team in the country is. He knows who won the superbowl in 1987. And he most certainly knows who the most decorated Olympian of all time is.

Monty looks a teeny bit impressed. Is he a bad person, for letting that go to his head? He’s certainly a bad person for letting it go to his cock.

He’s less useful, next round. It’s more Monty and Clarke’s territory, a bunch of questions about plants, of all things. In fact, it’s mostly Monty who leads the way. Clarke is starting to look a little insecure, Miller thinks. That is - she looks insecure until Bellamy starts distracting her by whispering something in her ear.

Monty rather carries the show in the next round, too. It’s not even science - it’s about TV shows. Miller is supposed to be good at this. But he doesn’t really feel that upset when Monty looks so damn _perky_ every time he gets a question right.

“You’re seriously good at trivia.” He says, a little awed, when that round is through. It’s hardly the sexiest comment anyone has ever paid their crush on Valentine’s Day, but it’s heartfelt at least.

Monty glows slightly. “Thanks. I really love learning useless facts like this. And I guess - I swatted up a bit for this. Didn’t want to let you guys down.”

Miller smiles foolishly at him. He’s a very sweet guy. He’s very kind, and very cute, and he’s right there looking at him like -

“Can I get anyone another drink?” Bellamy asks loudly, sliding away from Clarke to stand up.

No one wants another drink, as it happens. Clarke clearly wants Bellamy to sit the hell down and get back to laughing with her. But the silly, selfless man insists he’s going to get a round anyway. Some combination of innate generosity and desperate desire to get away from his own flustered awkwardness, Miller thinks wryly.

He comes back, not long later. He presents Clarke with a drink she didn’t ask for. He hasn’t got anything for anyone else - not even for himself.

Miller wants to laugh - or perhaps cry. His friend was always so smooth with girls he didn’t actually like much. But the questions are still rolling, so he turns back to the trivia.

They’re leading, coming into the final round. They’re feeling confident. Sure, Monty has largely carried the team, and Bellamy is acting really strange. But apart from that, things are looking good.

Then comes the moment it all threatens to fall apart.

“Which chocolate shares its name with the Roman god of war?” The question is asked, echoing loudly round the room.

“You’re up, Bellamy.” Clarke prompts, elbowing him softly.

Miller watches, horrified, as Bellamy shakes his head. Clearly he has decided he cannot possibly confess his feelings tonight. Evidently he is determined that they will not win - or at least, that he will have nothing to do with it if they do. Determined to sabotage them, but too intrinsically kind-hearted to actually do so.

Miller kicks his best friend a little under the table. He figures he deserves it, right about now.

“Come on.” Clarke pleads, cajoling. “You must know. Roman god of war. Or at least list some Roman gods and we’ll figure out whether any of them sound like chocolate?”

“I don’t know.” Bellamy says, jaw tight.

“You must do. That’s an easy one for you. You got this, Bellamy.” Clarke urges him. “Come on, we have to win.”

“I don’t know.” He bites out, louder, audibly upset.

“Bellamy?” She looks devastated at his response.

“I don’t feel well.” Bellamy lies robustly - although honestly, he looks so wrecked by this point that it could almost pass for the truth. “I think I’m going to head home.”

“I’ll come with you.” Clarke says at once, tone suddenly softer. “I’ll get us an uber. You should have said something. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Within seconds, she has swept him from the bar, in that decisive _Clarke_ way of hers. She always does act fiercest of all when the people she cares about are in trouble, Miller knows. Evidently she bought that lie about Bellamy feeling ill. She’s probably going to spend the rest of the evening making him soup and taking his temperature.

So it is that Miller and Monty are left behind, sitting side-by-side at a table, with seven trivia questions standing between them and a year’s supply of free drinks.

The only problem is, Miller isn’t sure why they’re here any more. If Bellamy has bailed on telling Clarke how he feels, and the two of them have both bailed on the bar altogether, what’s the point?

Monty seems unfazed. He’s already written _Mars_ quietly on the answer sheet while Bellamy was freaking out.

Well, then. That decides it. They may as well stay here and finish the trivia. There are worse ways to spend Valentine’s Day, after all, than sitting closely by the side of a cute guy.

Monty knows the answers to the next three questions. Miller contributes two more. Then the end is in sight, and before they know it, they are being declared the winners.

Grudging applause from the other tables. Eerie silence, where Bellamy and Clarke ought to sit. Miller turns his head, ready to offer Monty his thanks or his congratulations or perhaps another drink.

He never gets the chance. He doesn’t get to say _any_ of those things, because all at once Monty’s lips are on his. Monty is _kissing_ him, soft but sure, gentle but confident. It’s unexpected, perhaps, and yet somehow it makes perfect sense, too.

Miller kisses him back. He’s no fool. He sinks his hand into Monty’s soft hair, deepens the kiss, scoots a little closer. Around them, he supposes that people are still clapping and talking and drinking. But here and now, in this moment, his world has shrunk to Monty’s lips and breath and touch.

They pull apart after a while - not so much one of them pulling away, as both of them sinking back into their seats. Not out of _satisfaction_ \- this is far from over. But because there are a few things to clear up, here, before they go on kissing.

“Is this OK?” Monty asks. _This_. Whatever it is that lies between them.

“Perfect. My place?”

Monty nods. They leave the bar hand in hand, laughing as they walk out into the night.

…….

It isn’t until much later that Miller thinks of it. He’s been a bit distracted, really, by getting together with Monty and then talking and kissing late into the night. That’s how the honeymoon period of any relationship works, he supposes - but he likes to think that, having been friends for years, at least they know they are pretty compatible as people. Maybe they will be talking late into the night for a few years yet.

It’s almost one in the morning by the time he reaches for his phone and sends Bellamy a simple text.

_We won_

He should have told him sooner, probably. Bellamy really cares about Clarke, was really worked up tonight, and will probably be relieved to hear that at least they have another year to hang out at the bar as friends.

Within seconds, he gets a reply.

_Me too_

That’s it. Just two little words. Miller is confused, for a second.

But then a photo follows. A photo of Clarke and Bellamy, side-by-side in bed, covers pulled up to their chins but evidently cuddling closely.

Miller laughs. It’s so typically _them_ , the combination of confidence and apprehension that photo conveys. As if they’re thrilled about this next step but not quite sure how to go about telling the world they’re in love.

Miller’s not like that. He’s a little more straightforward than the pair of them.

“Hey, Monty. Want to send Bellamy a selfie? I owe him one.”

They spend the next half hour posing, more or less decent, for silly selfies. Boxers on but butts thrust out. Arms around each other, lips against lips. And even one where, for no apparent reason, Monty is licking a stripe up his chest.

Bryan wouldn’t have done that, Miller finds himself thinking. Bryan would have thought that was silly, or strange, or some such pointless insult.

Miller has most definitely spent his Valentine’s Day with the right person, this year.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
